Retractable Pants
by Emerald-Latias
Summary: Strange topics always lead to even stranger conversations whenever Rinoa's imagination was involved. But when Squall's thoughts prompted the topic? Even weirder. (Squall x Rinoa, post-game, written for The Successor Challenge.)


**Retractable Pants**

 **Synopsis** – Strange topics always lead to even stranger conversations whenever Rinoa's imagination was involved. But when Squall's thoughts prompted the topic? Even weirder. Written for The Successor Challenge.

-—-

"…I don't understand. _"_

Seated on the other side of his dorm room's kitchen table, Rinoa peeled her eyes away from the novel she'd been reading.

"Should I call Dr. Kadowaki? You voluntarily used words." Instead of the non-verbal glare she'd been anticipating in response, he tossed what seemed to be the offending object of non-comprehension in her corner. "And now you're throwing pants at me. I fear that you might be too far gone at this point for medical intervention. Then again, I think you're not the only one who needs it, these pants look practically diseased with buttons, zippers and pockets. What did you do to deserve them?"

"Helped save the world with selective amnesia." he dryly answered as he set aside a folded paper and some torn plastic wrap. Rinoa knit her brows together.

"I'm…not following you here."

"Continued conservatorship over G-Garden is forcing Balamb to take more politically-neutral jobs related to event security detail, supply farming and things of that nature at the moment." Squall explained as she picked up a pant leg to examine with a single hand. "Cid wants SeeDs to wear this new uniform to replace the impractical formal wear you saw at the SeeD ball."

"Ok, so what's the deal with all the pockets and zippers along the sides?"

"B-Garden decided to reverse their stance on GF use so it'll affect operations until Trabia can be rebuilt and para magic-related R&D can be resumed to create safer alternatives for stock-piling spells. The resulting consequence is that operatives now require an increased amount of restorative items on their person so larger cargo pockets are needed."

Rinoa's eyes trailed further down. "And the buttons?"

"The buttons you're not looking at are there to spite me."

The sorceress tilted her head and it didn't go unnoticed by her knight. Naturally, the subsequent sigh escaping his lips did not go unnoticed by her. He picked up the waist of the pants and rolled it over once to show her the undersides.

"This uniform didn't come with any belt loops for whatever reason. Just elastic straps with buttons on the inside to adjust the waist. The hem seems be relying on the same idea."

The sorceress shrugged, setting down her book and the pant leg altogether as she took the waistband into her hands. "I don't see what's the big deal. This is actually a genius way to save money for growing cadets. Not to mention your enemies can't grab you by the belt loops."

"A good idea in theory but I'm positive that Cid didn't account for the extra weight of the added supplies making the pants fall down. Or that you have to start fishing inside your waistband if the button dislodges itself from the elastic's buttonholes or snapped off completely."

"Normally I'd make a tasteless joke about being pantsed by your own pants but honestly? I'm just as confused as you are now. Now that I think of it, it's not like Garden can't afford run-of-the-mill uniforms in regular sizes with unfinished hems the kids can get tailored for a few gil in town. Or duct tape the insides if they're tight on cash. That might be cheaper than these one-size-fits-all retractable pants."

Squall shrugged. "The one-time investment makes even less sense when they're not allowing any SeeDs or cadets to wear civvies for classes, on-the-clock administrative work or non-undercover missions anymore. It used to be at the discretion of your teacher or CO who'd normally let it slide so long as you could do the work and pose no risk save for official examinations. If my ego was the size of Seifer's, I would have guessed Cid was trying to take me down a peg now that I've served my use."

As she gave him back the pants, Rinoa frowned. "That…kinda sounds like a stretch but humour me anyway. Why do you think that?"

"The high-visibility we gained from the war makes it more trouble than it's worth to assign me undercover missions. Even with a disguise on, voice modulation is…not an area I particularly excel at. The Garden issue blade holsters wear out fast as they're more suited to thin, lightweight blades like rapiers, katanas or even smaller broadswords. Mine affix to a regular belt and I doubt finding an alternative would be easy to find or be practical in use." he explained, setting down the garment in front of him. "And to state the obvious, I avoid uniforms like the plague. Most don't care."

"I'd hate to say it but…I don't think it's an ego thing or you being paranoid, I think he's trying to level the playing field and put you in your place – all those things don't sound like just coincidence. I mean, he's not _that_ clueless – there's just no way. And let's be real, if you were on the missions where Garden just needed magic-free muscle, wearing those pants would be a safety hazard and actually prevent you from doing your job. Well, unless if you took up another weapon or decided to take the Zell route. Or wear some heavy-duty suspenders. But I'm sure that suggesting the former would sound like blasphemy when you've used the one you have for probably over a decade."

"…Understatement of the year." he sighed with a headshake. "Might as well transfer to G-Garden if he wants to reduce me to a talentless grunt."

"I know you were being sarcastic but…if there's anything to be learned from my father's military career is that while stupid decisions will be tolerated by the lower-ranking soldiers because they have no choice, all it takes a few instances of embarrassment before top brass reverses the decision, spends even more money to fix the problem and then act like it didn't happen. And next thing you know, female officers are required to wear tiny mini-skirts until they get fed up with the blatant sexism and it becomes a total dude-fest."

Squall tossed Rinoa a level look. One which she felt compelled to reward with a large grin.

"Ok, so maaaaybe the last part might have been the victim of some colourful fiction to explain why the army is such a boys' club over there."

"As far as you know. Those uniforms leave everything to the imagination." he dryly replied. "I'd heard that Selphie was routinely mistaken for a very short man by other soldiers until she spoke during the missile launch mission."

"I don't know, I think that kinda proves my point." Rinoa coyly countered before letting her smile sober some. "Anyway…if you want, I can use my expertise in averting self-inflicted fashion disasters below the waist to help you get by in the meantime."

Squall shrugged as he got up and picked up the pants. "Can't hurt, I guess. Didn't realize you made your skirt though."

"Yep. I did that and the SeeD ball dress back when I had access to a sewing machine and a kick-butt locally-owned fabric shop in Timber." the sorceress explained. "When life hands you way too short hems because you forgot to account for seam allowance, you just have to make do and own it. Can you imagine how different things would have turned out if I didn't go?"

"I don't think it would have made a difference. You would have found another way to contact Cid and set the wheels in motion."

The grin reappeared on Rinoa's face as she dramatically placed her hands over her chest for effect. "Aw. I'm flattered that you think so highly of past-me that you'd have that opinion."

He could have left the comment hang in the air and ended this conversation on a sweet note — should have, really — but as Squall rounded the table, he could not help but make a point of being within earshot range when he paused his trek to the nearby bathroom.

" _Thinking highly of past-you has nothing to do with it."_ he told her in a low voice. _"You used to be a human steamroller who didn't understand the meaning of 'no' back then-"_

The end of his sentence was punctuated with a surprisingly-hard punch to the bicep for someone who'd been sitting down.

" _-MEAN._ "

"Not mean," he replied, legitimately trying not to wince from the aftermath her bony knuckles left, "-just stating a non-mean fact. You were…very forceful back then."

"It's still mean when you said it in such a tease-y way, trying to work me up." the sorceress indignantly responded before a light bulb seemed to have gone off, judging by her expression. "Hey, is this why they don't assign you undercover missions? Because you can only do serious business voice Squall and husky bedroom voice Squall?"

The SeeD opted to not dignify that with an answer as he continued to walk to the bathroom. He could have sworn he heard an _'I WIN!'_ through the closed door shortly after.

It was better she thought she had a small victory over him than to know the truth, he thought to himself. Partly because the idea of sending him on an information-retrieving mission involving seduction was laughable, but mostly because the sole undercover mission he'd received related to making an appearance at the Shining Bomber in Dollet as part of a low key cover band.

While proficient as he would have been as a shoe-gazing bassist or even a keyboardist, these skills had not helped him whatsoever when the would-be singer in the operative had gotten a severe case of food poisoning with no one else willing to take the mic. What he learned that night was that turning Oh Mandy Beach, a then-popular song about a woman and not the actual location, from its sweeping ballad origins to a flat, spoken word mess was not particularly conducive to a long set and convincing cover of both varieties.

Needless to say, he was glad he had dirt on Irvine regarding that mission to counteract the audio recording he'd made of the entire debacle so it never made the light of day.

Nevertheless, this was all besides the point.

Which was that he needed to try on these pants to see if Rinoa could make them wearable. And that she probably thought they'd swallowed him whole given how long he'd been in here already, thoughts mired in an embarrassing memory.

After grasping at both ends of the waist to confirm how wide this was, Squall decided that maybe he wouldn't be so far off about the whole, _'pants swallowing him'_ thing in about a few seconds or so. They were so wide that he was fairly certain he could fit both himself and Rinoa in these without issue if he'd left them the way they were.

Still, he proceeded to adjust the waistband from the inside and hoped it would make some difference as much as he did not want this to work.

-—-

A few moments later and Rinoa could hear the telltale creak of the bathroom door opening up. Being equal parts curious and worried, the sorceress held her breath as she shifted her position on the barstool to face the bathroom door, silently wondering what it was she'd be possibly working with – if anything could even be done. While she hoped the pair of pants wouldn't need any mending at all, she wasn't the pie-eyed optimist she had been even a year ago anymore. Considering all of the seemingly haphazard additions combined with memories of the battles she'd waged while scouring racks for the perfect pair of jeans in Timber's thrift shops, she wasn't sold on the odds. It didn't even matter that men usually tended to escape the finer annoyances that came with the pants-acquiring experience – this was going to be a mess. All she didn't know with certainty was just how big of a mess it was going to be.

The door opened wider and she could see Squall emerge from it, looking mildly annoyed with his hands at his waist until he made eye contact with her. The look then softened into simple resignation as he let go of his grip.

While she could see that there had been a slight drop, the hem of the white v-neck shirt he'd been wearing obscured the view at his waist. Short of telling him he was the worst stripper known to mankind – she didn't want to push any more buttons right now – she motioned for him to come closer to her instead. He did.

"Mind if I can lift up your shirt so I can see the damage?" she asked. He obliged himself.

While trying to cast a mental net over the crescendo of butterflies that had scattered about in her stomach, she could see that the waistband was already hanging midway down the V of his hips even without anything in the pockets, the tops of his navy underpants visible. She deliberately looked back up.

"As polite society suggests that I shouldn't just go plunging my hand in your pants, I have ask, are you sure you adjusted the inner band properly?"

He nodded. "The spacing of the button holes leaves a lot to be desired. …It's either this or not being able to feel below the waist."

Rinoa let out a long sigh. "I didn't think it was possible to bungle up this badly. I can add another hole if you want but it won't last super long if it gets bigger and bigger with wear and tear – and that's assuming the spacing will allow for even that much. Or…" She poked him in the center of his exposed patch of skin. "I could feed you donuts until you hit the next notch. That would work too."

"Times like these I wished Demi or Float spells could be hyper-localized." he grumbled as she moved the offending digit away from him and he let the hem of his shirt fall back.

"Float would be useful to avoid tripping but I'd argue that Demi would just swap one problem for another. If you're talking about casting it on your pants alone as a whole, that is." the sorceress partially agreed. "You'd get a waist that'd fit but you probably wouldn't be able to get it over your thighs. Speaking from experience, I have to make compromises all the time whenever I wear jeans."

He shrugged. "Could always use a few regular fire spells instead. Rid the need of hyper-localization altogether."

Rinoa smirked. "But then that'd make you a liar, according to the ancient grade school proverbs."

"Being called a liar is the least of my worries right now."

"Yeah, especially when I'm sure I have the power to make your pants fall down with one good tug." she wryly commented. "Then we'll really be getting into grade school mischief."

Instead of answering her, Squall walked back into bathroom, much to her non-surprise. A minute or two later, he re-emerged with the grey sweatpants he'd been wearing earlier. Before she could question where the new uniform pants went however, they had already made contact with her face.

" _-Mmmf._ What's the big idea?" Rinoa sputtered as the pair rebounded to land on her lap.

"Nothing. Try them on."

Refraining from making a joke to the tune of _'this is not how I imagined getting into your pants,'_ the sorceress got up and complied with his request. From the frequent visits they'd made to visit one another this year, her growing understanding of how his mind worked suggested that there was a method to his unspoken madness.

With the still-warm pants in her hand, she took two steps, side stepped around him and closed the bathroom door. Once she was inside, she stripped off her jeans and once they were shucked to the floor, the sorceress hopped into the uniform pants much like how someone would stick themselves into a potato sack. Not that Squall had a large waist by any imagination, quite the opposite, but the pant legs on this thing seemed huge compared to the pair of skinny jeans she had on.

Wait a minute.

These pants _should_ have been larger than what they had been - in the rise at least. Men's pants usually were to accommodate the different physiology. So…maybe he couldn't get them any higher than they had because of a combination of the rise not going high enough and the natural waist shifting the way the notches sat?

After Rinoa fiddled with the inside holes and those near the hem, the results made everything become crystal clear – Squall must have been handed a pair of women's uniform pants by mistake. Despite their appearance while not worn, they fit like a glove when she made the necessary adjustments.

She stepped out not long after to the sight of Squall sitting on her barstool. His eyes lit up once they connected with hers, magnified when Rinoa took another step to close what little gap there was so his knees were virtually at the tops of her shins.

"Good news is that it turns out that you do have retractable pants that does its job properly sans a mini Float or Demi spell boost. Bad news is that they like me better so you'll have to find your own pair. Also, I regret to inform you that despite the wide pant legs, I don't think you'll be able to tug these down. But I'm sure that none of this is news to you, huh?"

"No, not really." he coolly replied.

"And I take it that you also clued into the fact that you got a pair of women's pants?"

"Yes."

"Not surprised. Any theories on whose pants you got by mistake?"

"If I had to guess, I'd presume these are Xu's pants since her surname is right before mine alphabetically." he offered with another shrug. "…You might want to change before she barges in here and forcefully challenges your theory."

Rinoa furrowed her brows. "Why forcefully?"

"She wasn't exactly sold on the idea of this change to begin with." he explained. "This mix up will probably add fuel to her ire and tact is usually the first casualty whenever her mood sours enough."

"Oh. Did she have issues with the belt loops too? I seem to remember her wielding a sword of some kind."

Squall shook his head. "No. She won't say it out loud but I think she was rather attached to the old uniform. It's understandable considering she is the longest-living SeeD Balamb has."

"I wouldn't blame her either. Change is hard." Rinoa agreed. "Even something small like trading in a skirt for some cargo pants can feel like a bigger deal in your mind when it was a staple of your day-to-day routine. It doesn't matter if it's practical move or not, it's still the end of a chapter in your life and that always takes a bit of readjusting to get used to it."

"You…weren't talking about her, were you?"

"Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't." the sorceress cryptically answered. "Either way, let's just hope that your actual pants will have belt loops so I won't have to worry about you getting pantsed on the job or Cid being out to get you in general. In the meantime, I'd better take your advice and change back into my jeans just in case this isn't one of those times where you're sprouting deadpan hyperbole, seeing as I _kinda_ want to avoid being on the receiving end of unpleasant pantsing myself. Though now that I really think about it…it does seem ridiculous that she wouldn't take ' _I'll be a minute tops to change_ ' for an answer for someone who manages to even out-' _serious business mode'_ you."

In spite of himself, the corners of his mouth upturned ever so slightly. "It was hyperbole. If anything, she'd assume that I hadn't figured out that those weren't mine and make a pointed comment on why you were wearing them. Possibly write me up on some obscure rule book violation if she was in an especially-foul mood."

"…You're just out to be a big ol' Meany today, aren't you?" Rinoa non-seriously accused, lightly jabbing a finger into his chest for effect.

He gently grabbed the wrist belonging to the hand currently poking at him to set it back at her side. "Maybe."

With a devilish look in her eye, she leaned forward and planted a deliberate all-too-brief kiss on his lips. One that had apparently achieved the desired effect, judging by the slight but distinct hitch in his breath as their lips parted.

"That's ok. Everyone's entitled to having Meany relapses. Nobody's perfect."

To Rinoa's continued delight, Squall rolled his eyes. And then managed to further it some more when he returned the favour when he recaptured her lips for a not-too-brief kiss of his own.

The butterflies from earlier returned with fluttery vengeance, the winged cavalcade behind the assault multiplying as she could feel his hands lay claim to her waist. Amid them and the fires he was setting off with every touch, he managed to bring her closer despite the lack of belt loops. If it weren't for the possibility of making the barstool fall backwards with the momentum needed for the jump, she would have been tempted to facilitate things by hopping onto his lap.

Two seconds later, the exercised caution proved valuable as Squall chose that moment to temporarily break off the kiss to slide off his seat, his hands still at her waist. Rinoa couldn't help but shake her head and break into an ear-to-ear smile at the timing.

"It's a good thing I thought something through for a change." she told him, inciting the now-curious look on his face to grow. "I was about to jump into your lap now and I'm pretty sure I would have landed backwards on the floor if I had. Needless to say, that would have been a total mood killer. Could you imagine having to explain that to someone when I'm sure we've broken a thousand rules already?"

"We haven't broken any, actually."

"Oh?"

"There's no rule about having the opposite sex in your dorm. It's not after hours. The idea of me breaking the promiscuity rule is not only implausible but laughable. And if things go any further, I will obtain your consent." he rattled off with machine gun precision. "And if any of those rules have changed since yesterday, I honestly don't give a Grat's ass at this point because I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't with how things have been lately."

The sorceress chose not to poke fun at how seriously he answered her question as it was becoming more than clear that he was having a hard time with Garden politics and his current place in them. Instead she chose to kiss him on the forehead and offer him a sincere smile.

"Before my brains get mushier than they already are, I want to say that you have my consent to make my pants un-retractable and to do the things that may follow after that. But only if you want to, of course."

While Rinoa wasn't sure about the kind of noise she'd heard escape her knight's mouth just then, it sounded like a cross between a groan and an amused scoff if she had to guess, she was definitely sure about the calm look in his eyes which followed.

"Thank you."

She was also certain about the sincerity in those two words as well. Especially when the aforementioned thanks was punctuated by a renewed embrace.

Whether or not this afternoon would be the day they finally consummated their relationship in that regard, it didn't matter to Rinoa. What mattered was that he got some reaffirmation that she was still in his corner when he struggled with the weight of his role in this institution, ready with steadfast reassurance and ridiculous puns when he needed them the most.

Even when they did have to do with retractable pants.


End file.
